Fate with the Italian Angel
by Just-a-Kagehina-lover
Summary: Basically, I suck at summaries, but there's a real one inside. Rated M for sMut (but none in the first chapter)! Spumone fic (I absolutely ADORE them cause Romano is my FAV). AU where they aren't countries; Gil and Lovi are buds; Feli and Luddy are way younger and adorable. Just read please! Boyxboy (obv) don't like, don't read, don't report.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: _Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo believes he has met his soul mate during a coincidental encounter in which Lovino Vargas (surprisingly) helps him. When they meet again in a seedy bar, he's convinced it's fate. Lovino doesn't remember his small act of kindness or the overly-cheerful Spaniard, but due to Antonio's good looks and a bit of liquid courage, he agrees to a one-night stand. Unfortunately for him, the curly-haired man has no intentions of leaving the memory of their relationship to that one night, and Lovino's friend Gilbert is dead-set on making a career out of match-making: starting with them._

 _AU in which they aren't countries and Lovino and Gilbert are friends because that's how it works: they either get along great or hate each other's guts. Feliciano and Ludwig are also significantly younger than their older brothers._

 **Disclaimer:** don't own it, but it's so fucking hilarious I'm glad I don't cause I would've fucked it all up and then nobody would write fanfics like this.

Chapter 1-

Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo was thinking—something _very_ rare due to his incredibly short attention span, but apparently not impossible. As for why this spacey Spaniard was turning the wheels in his roomy head, well: he'd just met an angel. A snarky, hot-headed, swears-like-a-sailor Italian angel, but an angel nonetheless.

In all honesty, his heart was probably working much harder than his brain, but for once that oblivious brain of his was making use of the oxygen his heart feverishly pumped into it, and his cheeks were gladly accepting the impending flow of blood.

This no-name angel with a strange but endearing wayward curl on his head had left his mark deep in his heart, and carved his heavenly image into Antonio's small portion of permanent memories.

Sure, all the Italian had done was lend him a tissue (with a look of disgust that the Spaniard chose to omit from his love story) after he sneezed in the station while waiting for his train to arrive, but details-shmeetails! Antonio was nothing if not a determined man, and he knew that nothing would stop him from seeing that enticing Italian beauty again.

All this unusual thinking was abruptly paused, as the train announced its arrival at Antonio's destination.

Hopping off with a jubilant skip in his step, the curly-haired brunette made his way to his best friend Francis' house, brimming with the excitement of his encounter and the anticipation of the plans he and his friends would make to ensure the success of his love life.

—¥—

Lovino Vargas was not a patient man, and this new client was making that so painfully obvious. The bumbling idiot couldn't get to the fucking _point_ already, and he was clearly new as he didn't know that flattery will get you absolutely in the fucking middle of _nowhere_ with Mr. Vargas.

"—and, um, you l-look like you k-know what you're talki—"

"Yes, Mr. Thompson, I assure you I do. That's why I'd love it if you'd be so kind as to tell me what you're looking _for_ rather than what you're currently looking _at."_ Lovino cut his client off with a curt reply, redirecting the conversation in a more professional direction.

God he hated these idiots! As the customer finally got the hint and started blabbing on and on about his ideas and desires, Lovino's mind drifted to a topic that would both worry and calm him down: his sweet baby brother Feliciano. He had dropped Feli off at daycare this morning, and of course the social butterfly practically flew into the room—undoubtedly towards his potato-head best friend Ludwig—so Lovino knew he didn't need to worry so much about his whereabouts. He also knew however, that Feliciano is the world's most adorable airhead, and as long as a sketchy man with a pedo-moustache promised he was a 'friend' (and a piece of candy would help), his helplessly idiotic fratellino would skip happily into their pedo-truck and drive off to his doom.

These thoughts continuously harassed Lovino's worn-out mind, yet his adorable little Feli was also the most calming presence in his tired head. Lovino could count on one hand the number of people in his so-called 'inner circle' and Feliciano was always—and would always be—number one.

With a much calmer disposition, the Italian's hazel eyes focused on his client once again, as the 'stupid bastard' wrapped up his little speech on interior design.

Knowing that he heard none of the customer's requests, Lovino put on a deceivingly charming smile and asked, "I like to do my job thoroughly, so would you send me your full request and any changes by email? It would help me execute your wishes successfully; you have my card."

"Y-yes! Absolutely! Thank you so much for your time Mr. Vargas," the man stuttered, cheeks flushing at the sight of the beautiful man in front of him.

 _Easy as pizza pie_ Lovino scoffed in his head. Dismissing the client on good terms, he heaved a relieved sigh. Jesus, why does he have to get all the stupid pervert bastards who waste half an hour fawning over him or staring at his ass?!

The feisty Italian is surprisingly one of the top interior designers in his firm, due to his highly skilled interpretations and decisions, as well as his professional stability and composure in front of the clients. Lovino is known as the angel-in-disguise, and he lives up to the name every day. He knows just what each client thinks of him and exactly how to manipulate them to snatch up contracts left and right. As long as it puts food on the table for his beloved fratellino, he's fine with dealing with perverted old farts for a living.

As his mind wanders to his cute little Feli again, Lovino's phone buzzes in his coat pocket. Reaching inside and digging out his new iPhone (okay, so his job does a bit more than just putting food on the table), He sees a text from his friend Gilbert.

 _Probably another play date,_ Lovino thinks as he checks the time on his office clock while simultaneously unlocking his phone to see the message.

 **POTATO-FUCKER:** _Hey, un-awesome bitch! Since I just happen to be so awesome, I'll take Feli off your hands while you go get laid for once!_

Just as he suspected. The 'Prussian' bastard had a weird way of putting it, but basically Feliciano had begged poor Ludwig for another play date at his house. Chuckling to himself at the thought of Feli throwing himself on the socially retarded German, Lovino replied.

 **MAFIOSO BITCH:** _Alright Potato Bastard, when should I drop him off?_

 **POTATO-FUCKER:** _Nowhere! The awesome me is going to pick him and Luddy up from daycare while you go spread your pretty legs for gay Spanish men!_

 **MAFIOSO BITCH:** _Are you taking him today? When should I pick him up?_

 **POTATO-FUCKER:** _Yes today, otherwise I wouldn't be wasting my awesome time talking to the not-as-awesome you! And you keep avoiding the topic of getting the best sex of your life!_

 **MAFIOSO BITCH:** _Alright when should I pick Feli up?_

 **POTATO-FUCKER:** _You are being SO un-awesome right now! It's a sleepover so go get your ass pounded into the mattress of some shady motel! Pick him up when you wake up with an awesome hangover!_

 **MAFIOSO BITCH:** _Okay I'll pick him up tomorrow. Now I can caught up on my work. This new client is annoying as fuuuck!_

 **POTATO-FUCKER:** _The only fuck you should be concerned about is the awesome one you'll get if you go to my friend's bar tonight! Free drinks for awesome people, and if you go I'll put a word in~!_

 **MAFIOSO BITCH:** … _gimme the address._

As Lovino waited for the albino's reply, he thought over his decision. Lately he'd been so swamped he could barely get any alone time with his friend Mr. Dildo, let alone a _real_ man. Yes, Lovino was about one hundred percent gay, but so what if he liked it up the ass? It felt too damn good to care. With how stressed he'd been lately, and with a break finally opening up in both his work and Feli schedules, he supposed it was about damn time to get a good fuck in. He wasn't going to go so far as to hunt for any decent guys (Lovino is pretty picky since he can afford to be), but if anyone promising showed up at this bar Gil was introducing, he'd be more than willing—especially with a few drinks.

Feeling refreshed and filled with renewed energy, Lovino glanced at the clock again, sighing in relief as he started gathering up his things to _finally_ go home.

Just as he slid his phone into his coat pocket, standing up to leave, the silky-haired Italian felt the familiar buzz of an incoming text message. Pulling the phone back out, he glanced at the lit up screen and smiled down in anticipation at the address displayed.

Lovino Romano Vargas was going to get laid tonight.

—¥—

Unbeknownst to the little Italian, a Frenchman, a Prussian, and a Spaniard were cheering and celebrating with a six-pack of beer, as their 'Operation Italian Ass' (named by Gilbert of course) commenced.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2-

"Feliciano Vargas! Ludwig Beilschmidt!" the pretty Hungarian woman in a pink apron called out from the front of the room.

Feliciano and Ludwig looked up, each expecting to see their older brothers at the front gate, as it was pick-up time. When both spotted the shock of white hair and glowing red eyes, Feli ran up to greet the man while Ludwig gathered up both boys' things with a calm excitement.

"Big brother Gilbert!" Feliciano cried out happily, latching on to the albino's leg and looking up with a bright smile.

"Hey Feli! You're as cute as ever today," Gilbert replied, reaching down to ruffle the small Italian's auburn hair. Feliciano's hair was a bit lighter than Lovino's and parted slightly different, but Gilbert would never get over the strange fact that both siblings had a long curl that stuck out from their hair no matter what, even though nobody else in their family seemed to share the trait.

The younger of the two curl-bearing Italians looked behind Gilbert with expectant eyes, and then back up to Gil's red ones with disappointment.

"Where's fratello?" asked the sweet voice with a waver, his large amber eyes on the verge of tears.

Used to the crybaby's water works, the Prussian efficiently averted the crisis by mentioning the 'awesome sleepover,' and Feli's big eyes dried up immediately with excitement.

Looking back to Ludwig, who had finally reached the two with their small backpacks in tow, Feliciano cried out with excitement, "Luddy I get to spend the whole day and night with you! We can sleep together ve~!"

Gilbert had to grab on to Feli's shirt collar before the small boy lunged at his younger brother in excitement. Instead of jumping on Ludwig as he intended, Feli calmed down enough to grab onto the blonde boy's hand and tug him out towards the door.

Gilbert smiled down at the pair fondly before saying a few crude parting words to the hot Hungarian and following the children to his car. He silently wished Antonio luck on his escapade, and hoped Lovino would get the stick out of his working ass long enough to replace it with a thick authentic Spanish cock. The albino sniggered at the thought as he buckled a bouncing five year old Italian into his booster seat.

—¥—

Antonio stood in his closet, assessing the controlled disaster with monk-like concentration. If he wanted to get Lovino's approval, he needed to dress to impress—or so Gil had said.

 _"Lovino's fucking sexy, and he knows it. So he won't just fuck any man with a dick bigger than his dildo. He has class, and he likes classy men. He's picky about it and with good reason, so make sure you looks sharp, like you're just coming out of a business meeting for a drink or some shit," Gilbert advised, "You're a hot piece of ass too Toni, so you've got a good chance. Your body is just his type too."_

The more Antonio recalled his friend's advice and encouraging words, the better he felt, as the bubbling excitement of nervousness and anticipation rose in his stomach.

Grabbing a red button up shirt (Gilbert had said it was Lovino's favorite color) and some black, not-too-tight but well-fitting jeans that flattered his Spanish ass, Antonio got dressed for the third time that night, hoping this would be the outfit to sweep Lovino off his feet—and hopefully into his bed.

—¥—

Meanwhile in the Italian residence, it was seven-thirty at night and Lovino Vargas had just returned home from the office.

With Lovino's mature and modern tastes (not to mention salary) he would be expected to live in a high class penthouse suite-type of sleek apartment, with glass and marble everywhere, and a nice view of the city. But to Lovino, none of that mattered because of his golden rule: Feliciano comes first.

While an apartment at the top floor of a tall skyscraper didn't suit a bubbly, unspoiled child who only cared for receiving and giving affection, a typical suburban house with a white picket fence and a large backyard—complete with a playhouse and swing set—was the perfect alternative: and so that is exactly where they lived.

Stepping into his cozy home and toeing off his shoes by the front entrance, Lovino sluggishly hung up his coat and keys on the hooks beside the front door. The brunette trudged to the living room, which was connected to their rather large kitchen (the most modern part of the house) and set his briefcase and large black duffel bag onto the kitchen bar.

Plopping down in a tall black barstool, Lovino placed his head gingerly in his hands, willing the stress-invoked headache to go away. It was all some perverted bastard's fault anyway. If he just kept his grimy paws to himself on the subway, the Italian wouldn't have had to scream Italian (in a very manly way, of course) until his voice grew hoarse and the train doors opened at his station.

Cursing all bastardos to their befitting deaths (which included some variation of their genitalia and spoons), Lovino suddenly remembered why he was sitting at home alone instead of making dinner for his dear fratellino.

The Italian perked up immediately, recalling the 'free drinks' promised by his retarded potato bastard of a friend. He rushed upstairs to get a shower in before changing into clean clothes and heading out the door again.

The bar Gilbert had recommended was definitely one of the seedier ones (no surprise with the Prussian's sketchy habits, of which Lovino was well aware). The place was entirely made of old, red brick and crumbling mortar, and had what looked like a Russian name, but fuck if Lovino knew.

Stepping inside with a resigned shrug, the Italian just prayed this was a secret hotbed for sexy gay men. He immediately spotted an empty seat at the long bar and settled himself into the dimly lit area.

An unsettling presence loomed in front of the brunette's small form, and Lovino looked up to see the threatening atmosphere surrounding the enormous bartender. The giant was wearing a white winter coat and a scarf underneath his black apron, even though it was quite warm in the building. Just looking at the man was making Lovino start to sweat.

 _"His name is Ivan, and he's the bar owner. He's fucking scary, trust me I know personally—we used to be fuck buddies—but we're on decent terms now and he lets me send him a couple guys for free drinks sometimes. Just mention my awesome name and he'll light up like a fucking Christmas tree!" Gilbert said through the phone, warning Lovino about the bar while the Italian got ready to go._

As Gil's words came to mind Lovino calmed down and stopped gawking at the intimidating man long enough to squeak, "U-um, my friend Gilbert recommended this place to me, said it had good drinks…he said you know him?"

Ivan Braginski's eyes lit up and a childishly happy smile graced his ice cold features, though not from the mention of his tedious and annoyingly loud ex, but rather the compliment on his pride and joy: alcohol.

The giant laughed mirthfully (though to everyone else it sounded like a strange succession of 'kolkolkol's) and replied in a thick Russian accent, "I guess it is on his tab again, da?"

Lovino decided that was as good, if not better than free drinks, and smiled warmly at his new accomplice in making Gilbert's life suck for the hell of it as he ordered a Bloody Mary.

With inhuman grace and speed, the Russian concocted Lovino's and a few other customers' drinks and swiftly delivered them to his patrons.

When Lovino received his he asked Ivan, "How do you get that potato bastard to pay his tab if he hardly ever comes here (a piece of information Gilbert divulged to Lovino during their phone conversation)?"

"Well," Ivan smirked with mischief gleaming in his eyes, "I mail the bill to his house and add on interest and threats every time he refuses or ignores it. And he knows my threats are not empty."

Taking a sip of his delicious tomato beverage, the Italian laughed, thoroughly enjoying the response he received.

"I'm liking you more and more Ivan! And your drinks are amazing too!"

Unknowingly, Lovino has just made Ivan's day, and guaranteed himself a spot on the Russian's 'do not kill' list (for special exceptions to the day he plans to murder all the citizens of the earth in cold blood).

Taking his drink in hand, Lovino turns around and scans the surrounding area. Most of the men (including a few who are already trying to seduce someone) are checking him out, but the prospects are dull. A few women are blatantly staring at the Italian beauty as well, but most of them can tell he's off-limits (girls just seem to have a built in gaydar).

Sighing in disappointment, Lovino turns back to making conversation with the most interesting person there, pointedly ignoring any attempts from the dunk losers trying to get in his pants. Maybe he'd end up taking Ivan for a spin; the guy looked like the type to be hung like a horse.

—¥—

The sweating Spaniard standing awkwardly in front of the opaque door of a seedy Russian bar, was half nervous and excited, and fully shaking in his boots.

He had decided on the third outfit: a dark red button up and fitted black jeans.

Gathering all his resolve and thinking only positive thoughts, he wiped the sweat off his palms and calmly opened the door—at least he thought it was calm. What if Lovino (he had learned the beauty's name from Gil) could smell his nervousness like the way dogs do and then he would bite him and he would have to go to the hospital for a rabies shot! Oh my god he'd have to get his stomach pumped full of shots for six months and then his body would be filled with chemicals and he'd become radioactive like a superhero or something cool and he could probably fly or shoot nuclear lasers from his eyes…those existed right? And then he'd save the town from bad guys and Lovino would marry him! He'd be called like, the Hot Tamale or something awesome 'cause he's Spanish and he's hot. And he could have hot tamale sex with Lovino, with lots and lots of his mama's homemade tamales surrounding them and they could eat tamales for the rest of their lives.

Filled with renewed courage (that he got from an unreliable source; but hey! It's still courage), Antonio, the hot tamale, strutted into the bar as his eyes immediately met his Italian angel's, and Lovino hopped out of his barstool and the two of them ran towards each other with open arms, tears pouring down their faces as the rain pounded the ground hard. As soon as they made contact everyone applauded at the touching scene of the two lovers, finally reunited after the hot tamale went to war seven years ago. Lovino pressed his lips hotly to his own and they passionately made out while the rain washed their clothes away and they fucked in the rain like the passionate couple they are…speaking of fucking…

 _FUCK!_ Antonio thought, slapping his hands to his cheeks. He needed to get a hold of himself and stop daydreaming!

…Antonio looked around and realized he was still standing in front of the door to the bar.

Cursing his spacey nature, he grabbed a hold of the door handle and opened the door for real.

 _Too late to back out now,_ he thought, as his eyes scanned the crowded tables, finally alighting on his beautiful angel at the bar, laughing and talking with the most intimidating man Antonio had ever seen. If he wasn't impressed with Lovino before, he sure as hell was now. The Spaniard was probably ten times stronger and a lot bigger than the small Italian, yet even Antonio wouldn't touch that giant with a ten-foot pole.

Deciding to play it cool, rather than using a direct approach (especially after seeing a poor guy get completely ignored), Antonio sat a few seats away from Lovino and ordered a beer from the Russian.

The Italian beauty was used to the bums that seemed to inhabit this particular bar, so he didn't even glance in Antonio's direction, expecting more of the same.

Once his drink arrived, the Spaniard lifted the warm liquid to his lips, hoping that the movement would catch Lovino's eye. If Lovino just _glanced_ in his direction, he'd have a fighting chance. When nothing happened, he chanced a look in the brunette's direction, but he didn't pay Antonio any mind; wouldn't even give him the fucking time of day.

As Antonio continuously sent non-discrete glances in Lovino's direction, he practically drooled as he drank up the Italian's perfect body. He was wearing a white button-up with the sleeves rolled up and the top two buttons undone, which revealed his smooth, olive-toned skin that looked so creamy you could pour it in your coffee. His black skinny jeans fit in such a way that made him look elegant, rather than adolescent, as they hugged his almost feminine curves in all the right places. To sum it up: Lovino Vargas is a delicious piece of Italian ass, and Antonio knew he had to get some.

—¥—

The not-so-subtle glances aimed in his direction sent chills down his spine, as Lovino finished off his fourth glass of some random alcoholic masterpiece that Ivan had supplied. Fed up with the creepy bastard that just came in, he turned to tell this pervert off…and stopped…

…and stared…and stared, and stared, and stared. Lovino drunk up the glorious sight that was this handsome stranger like he was a traveler in the Sahara Desert dying of thirst. His eyes roamed from the tip of his highest silky curl on his beautiful brown head down to the bottom of his (expensive) business shoes, polished and black. Lovino stared at every nook and cranny in between the two as if he were trying to commit it to memory.

For the first time in his life, Lovino Vargas was unabashedly checking out another man (usually he's sneaky about it), and for the first time in his life he couldn't give two flying fucks.

This man was beautiful, and he was going to screw his brains out.

Locking eyes with two deep emerald ones, Lovino silently beckoned the man closer. Reading the mood for once, Antonio obeyed the Italian's unspoken command.

As he slid his beer over, Lovino watched this gorgeous Spaniard gracefully lower his sculpted body onto the barstool beside him, ignoring the jealous glares from both sexes as all eyes were on them.

Ivan noticed the atmosphere change, and left to attend to more customers and clean out glasses. He had already given his new friend his phone number, so he could be rest assured he'd see the little Italian again.

No sooner were introductions made than Lovino boldly asked, "You wanna fuck?"

To which Antonio hastily nodded, and the two were out of the bar and back at Antonio's apartment (his place was closer) almost as fast as their clothes were off.

Lovino smiled seductively, sending shivers straight to the Spaniard's groin, as he placed his lithe body on top of Antonio's, pushing him to lay down on the bed. For a second, Antonio was scared that Lovino was declaring dominance and trying to top him (to which he would fight tooth and nail), until the Italian surpassed all his wildest fantasies.

Lovino took the curly-haired brunette's fingers into his mouth, and worked his magic tongue around them to slick them up, making Antonio almost feel as if his dick were in the place of his fingers (and lord knows he was wishing that were the case).

Deeming the large digits wet enough, Lovino brought his lover-for-the-night's hand to his puckered entrance, sticking his pert ass out slightly, and moaning softly at the light pressure against the pink ring of muscle. It had been way too fucking long.

Antonio took control, thrusting a long finger into Lovino's ass as deep as it would go. _Fucking HELL!_ The Italian beauty was practically _swallowing_ his fingers, and the hot insides of his entrance were already slick.

Lovino smirked sexily down at Antonio's bewildered-yet-turned-on expression.

"It's alright to start with two; I prepared myself a bit before. You could probably already shove your fat cock in." Lovino grabbed Antonio's rock hard member and stroked it for emphasis.

Antonio's dick was so fucking _perfect_ , he was practically drooling over it. As Lovino thought of drool, he smirked and lowered himself until his face was between Antonio's thighs, his cock twitching against his cheek.

The Spaniard looked down at Lovino as he ran a hand through his long, slightly sweaty bangs to hold them back while he kissed feather-light trails up and down the veins of his large member. Lovino's other hand massaged slow circles in his inner thighs, and after teasing the poor man long enough, he devoured Antonio's dick in one go. Hollowing out his cheeks and deep-throating this delicious cock, Lovino hummed in appreciation, sending shivers through Antonio's body. It had been _way_ too long since he'd had a real cock up his ass, and he was going to treat this precious cock like a fucking king.

Swallowing around the thick member, Lovino's tongue lapped at the underside, sliding along in long, slow strokes and then moving to rub against the swollen head. He slid his tongue along Antonio's slit a few times, adding more and more pressure as Antonio writhed with pleasure, moaning loudly and gripping Lovino's silky locks in an attempt not to thrust inside that beautiful, hot mouth.

Just as the curly-haired, gasping man felt the first stirrings of heat pooling in his abdomen, Lovino slid off his cock with a wet 'pop.' Groaning in frustration, Antonio pulled the Italian onto his lap and slammed into his tight hole, up to the hilt. A mix of pleasure and pain shot up Lovino's spine at the rough and sudden intrusion, and he wound his arms tightly around Antonio's back, nails digging into the smooth surface. In the seconds they waited for Lovino to adjust, the Spaniard tilted his face down with gentle fingers.

Lovino closed his eyes and waited for a rushed, breathless, and passionate kiss, but it never came. Sliding one eye open, the sight before him shocked both eyes into opening widely, staring in confusion at the curly-haired Adonis below him.

Antonio stared with half-lidded eyes at the beautiful Italian angel in his lap with nothing but pure adoration. Even the slightest traces of lust were overpowered in his eyes by that strong emotion (although he was still very much hard). Everything about his angel was perfect: from his soft pink lips, to his cute little nose, to his long eyelashes and large hazel eyes filled with too many beautiful colors to count, to his slender, sexy hips and adorable ass. Antonio loved everything on this man, and he was determined to find out about everything inside so he could love those parts as well.

After what seemed like ages of silent admiration and adoration between the two, Lovino grew a little impatient and began slowly rocking his hips, to remind the Spaniard of what they were originally doing. Antonio took the hint very gladly, moaning softly as he leaned in and grabbed Lovino's soft, pink cheeks. As their lips connected, they kept everything slow and sweet. Soft lips moving in perfect sync, and even when pink tongues slid into the mix, they took their time tasting each other, bodies rocking together in sweet pleasure.

Things quickly escalated however, as one particular thrust and roll of Lovino's hips hit the bundle of nerves that drove him wild. Arching up against Antonio's toned stomach, Lovino cried out in the most beautiful and seductive voice Antonio had ever heard.

Complying with Lovino's request to hit that sweet spot again, Antonio thrusted with more force, angling into his prostate. Lovino moaned loudly, bursting with pleasurable fire and clawing at Antonio's back. The Spaniard shivered at the red marks he was sure would be on his back tomorrow morning. Resting against the headboard and holding Lovino's hips tighter, Antonio took control and thrust deeper into Lovino's tight, hot ass, the pleasure shooting through his body at every thrust into the small hole. Bouncing on Antonio's cock, Lovino mewled and cried out a slew of Italian curses and the Spaniard's name, clutching to the man's back with his head in the crook of his neck. Antonio shivered at the way his name rolled off the Italian's tongue, thrusting harder and faster as he felt the familiar heat coil in his stomach again. He reached between the two and grabbed Lovino's sopping wet cock, stroking it in time to his own hard thrusts. Lovino arched against his chest, moaning louder and louder as he neared his own release, rocking his hips to meet Antonio's and grinding them together. Lovino came moments later, seeing stars behind his eyes, with a particularly well-aimed thrust directly into his prostate and a long hard stroke on his slick cock. As Lovino moaned out Antonio's name into the crook of his neck, biting the juncture as Antonio pounded into his prostate during his orgasmic pleasure. At the sound of his name, Antonio lifted Lovino's chin and crashed their lips together, tongues battling hotly as he came deep inside his lover with a few hard thrusts, white sparks appearing behind his eyelids.

Lovino collapsed onto Antonio's chest, his member still inside of him, panting and gasping for breath. He hadn't had such a powerful orgasm in what seemed like ages!

As they slowly came down from their orgasmic highs, Antonio pulled out of Lovino's beautiful ass with a sigh, and adjusted their position more comfortably on the bed. Curling up on top of Antonio's muscular chest, Lovino drifted off to sleep, and Antonio soon followed, slipping into the dark with a final thought as he looked at his Italian angel's peacefully sated face: _I could get used to this._


End file.
